


At Night

by scared_pottah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Ugh I hate doing tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 00:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19120513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scared_pottah/pseuds/scared_pottah
Summary: Why the fuck is Harry sleeping with Malfoy?Not in the same bed, of course.That would be absolutely disgusting.And not that Harry wants it.Definitely not.*sweats nervously*





	At Night

The train sits, gleaming, beside the platform where dozens of harried parents stand, clutching beautifully polished trunks and caged owls. In some way, it looks the same as it did eight years ago, filled with dreams, wonder, awe. It seemed like a fantasy.

 

Until it didn’t.

 

The war broke Hogwarts. Turned it from a fantasyworld to a harsh reality. Crumbling. Magic wasn’t an incredible prospect that enriched their lives and turned the world, its colors, seemingly, a shade brighter. It was simply a part of life, woven into a routine, necessary for daily survival.

 

Of course, they had never imagined dying at eleven.

 

Dozens of excited children flood the station, harried parents struggling to keep up behind them. Harry sighs and slumps against the wall, wondering if he ever seemed like this, so innocent, so naive. 

 

He swerves around the wave of to-be first years and escapes to the first compartment he can see, nearly at the end of the train. When he pulls the door open, he sees a warm, inviting glow, plush seats, and the white-blond head of Draco Malfoy buried in his hands. 

 

Fuck.

 

Harry pulls the door shut quickly before Malfoy notices him and moves on. It’s sixteen compartments over from where Harry finally finds Hermione, looking weary, sunken deep into a seat. 

 

She doesn’t even notice when Harry collapses beside her, but flinches back hard when he gingerly places a hand on her shoulder.

 

“What-”

 

“Hermione. It’s me.”   
____________________________________________________________________________

 

When he watches a torn-up, sagging Hagrid lead the first years into the castle, like he has done for decades, he realizes that Hogwarts, for once, doesn’t seem like his home any longer.

 

The ceiling is a ominous, stormy grey, depicting the dreary outdoors. Rain shatters on the tall windows stretching from ceiling halfway to the floor, but the Great Hall doesn’t feel comforting anymore. A third of the students are gone. So the hall remains dark and deserted, despite the rows of children filing in and obediently filling the seats.    
  
Professor McGonagall, the new headmaster— Hogwarts has seen too many for only three short years— eyes the eighth years warily, but allows them to sit with their respective houses. When the Sorting is over, only thirteen students have been sorted into Slytherin, Malfoy sticking out like a Mandrake in roses. He sullenly pushes his food around, the younger students eyeing him warily, then slaps the fork down and heads toward his old dormitory. 

 

“Mr. Malfoy.”   
  


Grudgingly, he stops and turns around.

 

“To our eighth years- we have decided it is not best for you to remain in your respective four houses after- after everything. You will form a new house-” McGonagall twirls her wand and a new hourglass appears, purple amethysts shining inside. “- with new dorm assignments.” 

 

Everyone groans, and a few eye Malfoy suspiciously.

 

“The rest of the students- continue as usual. Prefects, please show the first years to their dorms.”

 

Slughorn, somehow fatter than ever, reads down the list of eighth year dorm assignments, everyone seeming relatively pleased or at least in grudging acceptance. 

 

_ Don’t put me with Malfoy. Not Malfoy, not Malfoy, not Malfoy... _

 

Slughorn finishes with “Harry Potter and Ernie Macmillan. Draco Malfoy and Terry Boot.”   
  
Harry exhales, relieved, but it doesn’t last long. Slughorn squints at the paper, adjusts his spectacles, and says, “Ah. Sorry, my bad. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Ernie Macmillan and Terry Boot.”   
  
What.

 

What the  _ fuck. _

 

He glances over at Malfoy, whose eyes are wide and shocked, but when their glances meet Malfoy looks quickly away and at the ground. This is  _ unacceptable. _

 

“Professor-” Harry starts to say, but is interrupted. “Potter,” McGonagall says sternly, “I partnered you two for a reason. I hope I will not be disappointed.” With that, she turns and leaves. Harry slumps angrily to his new dorm, far-away on the fucking  _ top _ of the Astronomy Tower.

  
  



End file.
